To Be Late
by Fatcat91
Summary: Is to be dead. Or the one time Kakashi was late.


**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way own Naruto. Though I do like to play around with the characters and send them to HELL.

 **Rating:** T (for Teen)

 **Warning:** Mentions of suicide

 **Author's Note:** This is the first time I'm writing in the Naruto Fandom. Normally this would be all about Naruto (I have a thing for main characters. Don't ask me why). But then I learned of Kakashi's tragically sad back story and this was born. That and I've been binge reading Kakashi fan fiction. Hopefully this is as in character as possible. Without further ado on to the story.

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 **To Be Late**

Only once was Kakashi late. He was young and had wanted to spend just a couple more minutes practicing a move his sensei had showed him. Those couple of minutes eventually turned in to hours. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the sky ablaze with color, when Kakashi finally stopped his practicing. He blinked in surprise at how much time had passed. Normally he would be home by now making dinner for his father. But lately he hated going home, to a dark house and silent rooms.

His father changed ever since That Mission. Gone were the smiles and the care-free hugs, gone were the praises and the love. All that remained were dead eyes, a hunched figure and an ever-growing hate. He didn't understand why the village suddenly hated his father. He didn't understand why his dad never protested. Maybe his dad really did deserve the hate.

Kakashi shook his head free of those thoughts and started the slow walk home. He glared at the ground when he neared several civilians. He could hear them mutter "traitor", "trash", and "scum". For the longest time Kakashi tried to ignore them but lately it had been getting to him. He grounded his molars as he passed by them.

"He should just kill himself," one of the civilians muttered. A flash of killer intent sent them running. He scowled as he drew closer to his house. For a moment he felt the tiniest amount of dread as he rounded the corner. While he was never know for being late, he was a child (though he would never admit that) and children where know to be tardy on occasion but he had never been this late before. He tried to rationalize it in his mind. If his father truly needed him he would have found him.

"Father, I'm home," he called out to the darkened house. Before That Mission the house would have some sort of light on if any one were home. After the house was always dark except for when Kakashi was there.

"Father?" Kakashi called again. Normally his father would respond. Before it was with a playful "cub in the kitchen" or "cub in the study." Now it was with a grunt or a blunt "what." When he didn't get a response Kakashi started to worry.

"Father? Are you home?" When he was younger, his father would sometimes go out for dinner with some of his teammates or with Jiraiya sensei. But his father hadn't left the house in months not since That Mission.

"Dad?" Kakashi shouted. He started searching the house. First he tried the kitchen. Maybe his father decided to actually cook something this time. He opened the door and found the kitchen dark and empty. He tried the training grounds, his room, then his father's room. The last room he went to was the study. It was the one room he wasn't allowed in without his father there.

"Too many dangerous tools there cub," his father had once told him. He knocked on the door first.

"Dad? Are you in there?" he whispered. He knocked again before he opened the door.

"Dad?" He poked his head in and saw his dad lying on the floor. He had been sleeping a lot lately. Sometimes he slept the whole day away. Karachi had tried to get his father out of bed, but after awhile he stopped trying.

"Dad you need to stop sleeping so much, it's unbefitting of a ninja," Kakashi said to the quiet room. The silence was the first thing that Kakashi noticed. It was startling how quiet the room was; it was as if the world was holding its breath. He tiptoed closer to his father and nudged his shoulder trying to wake him up.

"Dad this isn't funny anymore," Kakashi said as he shook his father's shoulder more. When he was younger his father would pretend to be asleep when his young son would come to wake him. He would crack one eye open to see his son approach him. The only warning was a high-pitched giggle before a ball of silver hair was in his face.

"It's time to get up daddy," Kakashi would squeal as he nudged his father's shoulders.

"Hmm? But the sun isn't up," Sakumo would tease, earning him a pout and a giggle from his son.

"Daddy," Kakashi would give his father an exasperated sigh, "It's time to get up." Sakumo would ruffle his son's hair before rising. But he wasn't rising or talking or moving.

Kakashi gave his father a harder shove. Maybe he was drunk. He had been drinking more. He had tried to hide it but Kakashi could smell it on him all the time now.

"Dad? Daddy?" Kakashi whimpered. Still his father refused to move. He pulled at his father's arm and ended up slipping on to something wet and sticky. Then the sharp smell of blood permeated through his mask, overwhelming his senses.

"This is a genjutsu isn't it," Kakashi muttered. His father sometimes did that. He would put his son under a genjutsu so he would know what it felt like to be under one. The first time he did that, Kakashi didn't speak to the man for a week. Sometimes it was obvious (a giant spider instead of a pillow) to see how long it took Kakashi to break the jutsu. Other times it subtle (turning his son's room pink) to see how long it took him to notice he was in a genjutsu.

"Kai," Kakashi whispered, after forming the hand seals. The vision of his father didn't change.

"Kai," Kakashi said a little louder. "Kai, Kai! KAI. KAI!" His father never moved.

"Daddy, make it stop. Please make it stop," Kakashi sobbed. He pitifully pulled at his father's limp arm trying to make the man move. Trying to break whatever was happening.

"Daddy," Kakashi finally screamed. Silence was his answer. Eventually he stopped pulling his father's arm and cuddled up next to his father. He pulled his father's arm over his shoulder and rested his head against the man's chest. He ignored the sticky blood that covered his hands and coated his body. He ignored the fact that his father wasn't breathing or moving or anything. He ignored the sword imbedded in his father's stomach. He ignored everything and pretended that his father was just sleeping.

"It's okay Daddy, you can sleep," Kakashi whispered as he snuggled the cooling corpse. Kakashi thought that if he listened hard enough he could still hear his father's heart beating. The ANBU found him the next day curled in to a little ball, his father's arm dropped over his shoulder and blood coating him like a grotesque blanket.

"I was late," was the only words Kakashi would say as he stared at his father's corpse.

Only once was Kakashi late. It was the greatest mistake of his life. From that day onward Kakashi vowed to never be late again. Because on that day he learned that to be late is to be dead.

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End.

This is just a one shot so I doubt I'll be continuing this story. Though I could be wrong. The title is based on a saying my band teacher used to say. "To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late. To be late is to be dead."

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Keep on reading

Fatcat


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